


PTB Smut University 2012

by imashygirl



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Gen, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Gratuitous Lemon, Orgasm, Phone Sex, Pirate's Bounty (Sex Position), Roleplay, Unresolved Sexual Tension, teenage sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:51:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imashygirl/pseuds/imashygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first attempts at citric writing with the help of my professors at Smut University 2012</p><p>The following are my assignments for the PTB SmutU 2012. I'll use canon pairings and try my very best to meet each professor's challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pre-Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.
> 
> * I can't thank my lovely PTB betas enough for helping me through the first chapter of my first lemon. Afmtoo's and Darcysmom's keen eyes miss nothing!

I sighed for the umpteenth time since I'd turned off the bedside lamp. I turned to the nightstand and looked at the clock.

1:15 a.m. Holy crap! I'd been awake in bed for over three hours.

My mind had been filled with so many thoughts lately that each night I found it harder and harder to fall asleep. In the two weeks since Edward and I had announced our engagement, my life had been turned upside down

Alice, Edward's sister, had begun the wedding preparations almost immediately after I gave her the go signal—though I suspected she might have done it a bit earlier than that, behind my back—and she'd enlisted the help of both my family and hers. Although I should have nothing to worry about in that respect, since they so obviously had everything under control, I still couldn't help worrying that she might go overboard along the way.

On top of that was the troubling news of Jacob's disappearance after receiving our wedding invitation. I knew my best friend objected to my upcoming marriage to Edward, but I had foolishly hoped that he would set aside his misgivings and respect my decision. I was wrong. Now he was gone, presumably in his wolf state, brooding and God-knows-where. I missed him terribly.

And to top it all off, my beloved truck, that old red Chevy that had seen me through the worst moments of my life, finally huffed its last breath. I immediately thought of Edward as a possible culprit. After all, didn't I promise him I would accept any car he bought me if ever my Chevy finally broke down? Alas, Edward was out hunting with his brothers, so I would have to wait for his return before I could confront him about it.

With this mess of jumbled thoughts constantly playing repeatedly in my head, it was no wonder I couldn't sleep well at night. I doubted I could sleep at all if Edward wasn't here every night, lulling me to sleep with his soft voice singing my song or reading lines from my favorite book. Lately though, I had another uneasy thought looming over me that even Edward's presence could not calm. In fact, Edward being there made it even worse.

I thought about one particular part of our agreement, which I had so passionately fought for and felt so much satisfaction over when he had conceded. I had been so sure it was what I wanted. But now I was having second thoughts.

Yes, I did want to be intimate with Edward before he changed me. Even if we had to wait until our wedding night to do it, as long as it was finally happening I was happy. But then I realized how little I knew about it all. Sure, I knew the basics, I'd seen some stuff in movies, and I'd heard other people talking about it. But hearing or reading about it was far different from experiencing it firsthand.

It was like riding a bike. When Charlie gave me my first bicycle as a Christmas present after I turned seven, I was so thrilled. I started reading everything I could find about bikes. But nothing could have prepared me for my first fall or for the grueling riding lessons with Charlie. Nor could it have prepared me for the exhilaration I felt when I finally found my balance and went flying through the streets.

The fact that I was so lacking in the sex department worried me. What if I was hopeless in bed? What if I was frigid? If I wasn't able to satisfy Edward, would he leave me after all?

No. I would not allow that to happen. Edward and I belonged together. I was sure our love would translate into the physical aspect of our relationship. It was only a matter of preparation, I realized. Maybe I just needed a little bit of practice.

Since the object of my affection was away, I decided to do it by myself first. I knew Edward would be the last person to agree with my idea to practice. He was scared enough that he was going to kill me accidentally on our wedding night, with him being a vampire and all; I seriously doubted he would risk doing it during a practice session.

As I began planning my approach, I got more and more convinced that I was on the right track. I heard my classmates saying that sleep came naturally after sexual gratification. Maybe this could cure my bouts of insomnia as well.

I knew it had to be as realistic as possible. So I padded quietly down to the kitchen, careful not to wake my father from his peaceful slumber. I took out a mixing bowl from the cupboard, and filled it with water and some ice. I went back up to my bedroom, noting with relief that Charlie was still snoring away. How awkward it would be if he woke up and caught me! I resolved to be as quiet as possible and locked my door as an afterthought.

I shut the windows firmly and locked them too. It was not particularly chilly but I still didn't want to risk getting a cold. My room was on the second floor and the chances of me being seen by someone outside was close to nil, but I closed the blinds anyway. What I was about to do seemed so naughty that it made me feel both excited and paranoid at the same time.

I took off every article of clothing I had on, folding them neatly on the chair beside my desk. I took my bath towel from its hook beside the door and placed it on the bed. Then I set the bowl of ice water on the bedside table and dimmed the lights. I climbed on bed and pulled the covers to my chin.

Now what? Where do I start?

After a few minutes of pondering, I decided to get a good look at what was down there before I tried anything. I had to familiarize myself with the landscape, after all. But how to go about it? Then I had an idea. I hopped off of bed and grabbed a small oval mirror from my desk. It had a stand at the back that fit my purposes exactly. I set it on the mattress between my feet and adjusted it. I then leaned back on the pillows, spread my thighs and bent my knees, taking a tentative peek.

Oh my. So that was how my pussy looked. It didn't look as clinical as those pictures in biology books in class. In fact, it looked so real. It was the first real pussy I'd ever seen, since I was not in the habit of watching porn. I admitted that I was very much fascinated with it and instantly turned on. I now understood why people compared pussies to flowers. Mine looked so pretty, so delicate. I hoped Edward would think so too when he finally saw it.

Thinking of Edward looking at my pussy aroused me further, and I could see a sticky wetness pool at my entrance. I suddenly wanted to touch it. With one hand I spread my pussy lips, and with the other I touched my fingertips to the wetness, spreading it to the surrounding flesh and felt a shock of pleasure through my lower belly. It was so warm but felt deliciously cool as the air hit it. I slid my fingers around it in a circular motion, testing the sensations on each bit of skin that I touched. It seemed off somehow, and then I remembered how I should pretend that it was Edward touching me.

I reached toward my nightstand and dipped my fingers into the ice-cold water, then resumed my exploration. The cold stung my heated flesh at first, but then it gradually dulled to a numbing, throbbing sensation. I closed my eyes, easily picturing Edward fingering me, or even licking me with his cold wet tongue. I felt myself getting wetter, the hot sticky juices spreading onto my hand. I dipped my fingers into the cold water some more and spread the cool wetness upward. When I hit my clit, I gasped.

It was very sensitive, and it hurt a bit. I opened my eyes and looked closely at the reflection in the mirror as I passed my fingers over my clit again. It pulsed, sending hot shivers down my spine, which contrasted with my icy fingers. I inserted one finger into my opening and shuddered at the new wonderful sensation. I pushed it deeper until it hit a resistance. I stopped, wishing I could go further because it felt so good. I added another finger instead and crossed it with the first one. It felt even better.

I alternated between sliding my fingers in and out of my pussy slowly and pressing my clit with my thumb, feeling the pressure build up deep within me. Something was still lacking, though. I took a small ice chip and passed it over my mouth, imagining it was Edward kissing me; over the sides of my neck, over my collarbone. I trailed it on my furiously beating heart, in the valley between my breasts, feeling goosebumps rise in its wake. I cupped one of my breasts, finding my nipple already erect. I twisted it between my fingers, pretending that Edward was sucking it into his plump lips, until the soft pink tip hardened. I whimpered in ecstasy, ignoring my earlier vow of silence.

I was pumping my fingers feverishly now, marveling at the slurping sounds they made and at the delicious, warm, tingling sensation that started at the pit of my belly and spread to my whole body. I couldn't help moaning out loud as I added more pressure to my clit. I didn't care how loud I was becoming; this was like nothing I had ever experienced before. With a stroke of inspiration, I grabbed one of the long, rod-shaped ice blocks from the bowl and pushed it into my pussy, and it almost felt like it was Edward's hard cock deep inside me.

I cried out as my body convulsed and I fell apart. I forgot my name. I forgot everything except for the bliss that threatened to consume me.

When I came down from my high, I removed the wet towel as well as the ice because my pussy was slowly becoming numb. I listened cautiously for signs that I had awoken Charlie with my screams. Surprisingly, he was still snoring.

I couldn't help grinning triumphantly. I wasn't frigid after all—not figuratively, anyway. And if my fingers felt that good, I could only imagine what it felt like if it were actually Edward's long fingers in me, his wet tongue, or his ice-cold cock. Would it be as cold as the rest of his body or would it be warmer? I wondered. Regardless, it would definitely be the best.

Gathering up the covers around me and turning off the light, I fell into my first restful sleep in weeks.

As I slipped into sleep I didn't notice that the window had opened, or that a pair of golden eyes were staring at me in disbelief.


	2. Ficology: The Human/Vampire Reproductive System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike: I'm dying to try out a new position. Hope Jessica loves it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Jessica and Mike. I own a perverted brain.
> 
> \- This is unbeta’d. Sorry for the mistakes.

He entered her, pushing all the way inside in one swift movement. He didn’t even hit her back wall.

It was during times like these when Jessica wished Mike was bigger. As he moved inside her, her mind drifted. She bet Edward was bigger. Bella was such a lucky bitch.

“You like that?” Mike asked between gasps. He wrapped her legs around his waist where she automatically crossed them out of habit. He went faster, his arms on either side of her head straining with effort.

“Um, yeah.” It was okay, but she wished it was better. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that, though.

“Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re into it,” he said, pausing to look at her.

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. Why didn’t he get it over with already?

“What do you want? I’m up for it,” he told her. He shifted his weight on one side as he rested one arm on her thigh.

She was annoyed that he was once again expecting her to lead. She wanted him to be in charge for a change. I want you to have a bigger cock, she almost said, but it was too harsh, even for her. Instead, she replied, “I want you deeper inside me.”

He thought about it for a moment then started moving their limbs. Pulling out of her, he sat on his knees. He slid one of her legs down his hip to rest on his calf. Her other leg he held in one hand, straightening it carefully and placing it on his shoulder.

She was spread so wide before him that she felt an uncharacteristic sense of vulnerability. It was gone however, when he considerately ran his fingers along her opening to test her before he buried himself inside again. He went slower than the first time, and when he stopped she was overwhelmed with a feeling of fullness. Amazing! It felt as if he was bigger all of a sudden.  
He started moving at a steady but unhurried pace. He pulled out almost completely and then slid inside to the hilt. Without even realizing it, she began pushing her hips upward to meet his thrusts, her back arching with pleasure.

She could feel him so deep within her, deeper than she would have expected. She sighed happily when he finally managed to hit her back wall. As if in response, his hips snapped at increasing speed. She swiveled hers as she met him on each downstroke, wanting to feel him everywhere inside her.

“Fuck, I wish you could see this,” he said in a strained voice after he had moved his gaze from her face to where they were joined. After watching himself disappear into her a few times, his blue eyes traveled upward to his favorite part of her body. He watched in a daze as her pert breasts bounced along with the rhythm he had set.

“Shit, I’m not going to last long. The visual is just—fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

As a result, her fingers found her clit and rubbed it in circles. She gasped, knowing she was almost at the brink but wanting to prolong the pleasure.

Unsatisfied with just watching her girls, he gave into his urge to touch them. He grabbed a handful and squeezed it, tweaking the nipple between his fingers. “Why don’t you come already?”He breathed out harshly.

She shook her head stubbornly, closing her eyes. “It’s too good. I don’t want it over yet,” she insisted. She bit her lip when he hit a particularly delicious spot.

“But I’m so close!” he hissed. He turned his head to the side towards her calf, which was pressed on his shoulder. He ran his tongue along the slope and closed his lips around the soft skin. Without warning, he clamped his teeth on it firmly.

He grinned triumphantly as he felt her unravel beneath him, her curses ringing in his ears, her walls contracting around him. After a few more uneven strokes, he followed suit, experiencing the best orgasm he had ever had.

“I told you I wasn’t ready to come yet!” Jessica whined, slapping his arm weakly when he collapsed beside her.

“Don’t worry. I’ve still got a few positions I want to try out. Just give me a minute, okay?”

Jessica grinned. It seemed like her silent plea was granted, after all.

POSITION: PIRATE’S BOUNTY http://www.sexinfo101.com/piratesbounty.shtml


	3. The Non (Completely) Gratuitous Lemon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Charlotte after Maria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.
> 
> A/N: My brain shut down about an hour ago (but I have a deadline to meet). Doesn't help that this is unbeta'd either.

As I sat on a thick, dark brown bough near the top of a weeping willow tree, I couldn't help but see the irony. The tranquility of my surroundings was in stark contrast to the turmoil deep inside me.

Unbidden, images of black, riotous tresses, lush curves, and long, supple limbs appeared in my mind. I'd looked so petite and childlike standing next to that vampire. I was pale whereas she was alive with color; I seemed so young and unsure as opposed to the confidence that exuded from her. I wished Peter and I had never come across her and her sisters when they had arrived at this part of the woods.

At first, we were wary of them since we were so used to the hostility among vampires in the south. But after we'd exchanged a few words, we concluded that things were very different here up north. Vampires were friendlier, willing to share, and seldom resorted to fighting over humans. It was more populated after all, and there was plenty of food for everybody. I was delighted to meet others of our kind in such a diplomatic manner.

Now, while I waited for him to come back from escorting them to the outskirts of the territory we had claimed, a feeling of unease grew in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn't forget the appreciation in the stranger's ruby-red eyes as they took in Peter's tall, muscular form; or the deliberate way she ran her tongue over her full, pouty lips; or the derision in her low voice when she flicked a glance at me and asked him, "Is she your mate?"

His silence was a knife in my dead heart.

When we had escaped Maria's army a few months ago, it was such a relief to finally be just the two of us. Life was lighter, happier, and more peaceful. He was my best friend in the world, and there was nowhere else I would rather be than by his side.

Over the last weeks, we had grown closer physically. I saw no reason why we shouldn't sleep together. We were friends after all; it was just one of the primal needs that we satisfied together, similar to our bloodlust when we hunted. It had never felt wrong, until recently.

Recently, I had been feeling that it was not enough. I knew he cared enough to follow me after I'd fled Maria's clutches, to cherish my company, to enjoy our intimate relationship. Still I wanted more than just an easy companionship. I craved for his love.

I had fallen in love with my best friend.

Maybe I had had feelings for him all along, and it was only at this time that I had a name for them. It was a wondrous but terrifying revelation because, now that we had met other vampires outside the bubble we had created around ourselves, Peter would see just what he had been missing.

It would be so easy for that dark-haired witch to cast her spell on him. And then he would be lost to me forever.

My complex mind worked in the other direction, picturing a different scenario. What if he wasn't attracted to any of those vampires we had met? What if he returned to me, unaffected by that seductress' charms?

Would I be able to admit my feelings? Could I take that risk? It would definitely change the dynamics of our relationship. If he felt the same way, we would no longer be just friends but mates. I savored the word on my tongue and beamed joyously. I had never wanted anything more in my short existence.

But if he didn't want the same thing, there was a chance that he might leave me and look for someone who demanded less from him.

What was more important to me? His presence in my life or his love?

I heard his light footfalls and caught his unique scent in the air, but I still had no answer. I dropped effortlessly from my high perch to the mossy ground below and waited for him. I was completely covered by the weeping branches heavy with leaves that formed a green curtain around me, but he sensed my presence and approached me with a grin on his face.

"Charlotte! You wouldn't believe the stories they've been telling me," he exclaimed, obviously thrilled. "They've traveled all of North America, Canada, and Alaska now. It's absolutely marvelous. Maya offered to show us sometime."

So it was Maya now. I wondered if her invitation really extended to me.

"That's great." I tried to sound enthusiastic.

"She's something else, isn't she?" he commented, dropping to the ground beside me. His strong arms pulled me by the knees to sit at his side.

The awe in his voice caused jealousy to flare in me, but I tamped it down immediately. It seemed like the chances that my love was returned were depressingly low. It was then that I decided not to tell him how I felt about him.

I felt incredibly guilty. I had never kept anything from him before, and he had always been completely honest with me, too. I wanted to tell him everything so badly, but it might just be the one thing that would drive him into her arms.

"I feel tired. We probably should hunt soon." I tried to change the subject.

"Come here," he said softly as he lifted me onto his lap and pressed his chest to my back. He ran his hands down my arms, causing warmth to spread through the skin he had touched. "It's too soon, and we don't want the townspeople to get suspicious. However, I am very much willing to satisfy your other hunger," he suggested, winking impishly.

"Won't that use up the remaining blood in my system and make me hungrier?" I laughed at him.

"Not necessarily. Besides, it'll make you relax afterward. You're so tense," he complained when he pressed his palms on my shoulders. He didn't know that it was from the effort of reining in the strength of my emotions. It was like I was holding back tears of frustration even though I knew I couldn't cry.

"Just relax," he said softly, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on the nape of my neck.

I tried to obey his words and closed my eyes to clear my mind. I slowly commanded each muscle to loosen up as he kneaded them with his gentle hands. When he undressed me slowly, dropping a trail of wet kisses on each bit of skin he uncovered, I let out a shaky breath.

He knew just which buttons to press to drive me mindless with want. This was what I was hoping for: a temporary reprieve from my miserable thoughts with the help of his talented mouth and fingers. Each nip elicited a moan, each caress a whimper. Venom pooled in my mouth as desire shot through my veins, and I reached up to repay each of his ministrations with my own.

Before long, we were lying on a bed of grass, our naked forms wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace. We moved in frenzy, like we couldn't get enough of each other. Teeth clashed, breaths mingled, limbs pushed and pulled, until it was almost impossible to tell where one person began and where the other ended. When our bodies joined together, it was as it had always been between us: fiery, effervescent, unforgettable.

We moved against each other in a rhythm that was both age-old and ever-changing. Each slide of his skin against mine set my nerve endings alive with electricity; excitement flowed through me and shot into the core of my being.

During our previous encounters, he had been incredibly vocal in the midst of pleasure, and this was no different. He whispered words in my ear that were sinful and sweet, designed to make me lose control. When I did, he met me thrust for thrust. He reached between us where we were joined, his fingers sliding over my most sensitive spot, while he murmured, "Let go for me, love."

The endearment sent a shock of hurt over me as the double-meaning entered my lust-hazed thoughts. How could he so carelessly fling that word at me? He'd utter it in the heat of passion and say nothing of it afterwards, whereas it meant the world to me. Until I was absolutely sure about his feelings for me, everything was still wretchedly one-sided.

Suddenly, everything I had been trying to forget came rushing back until I was bombarded with excruciating thoughts and feelings that squeezed my chest in a terrible grip. If I were still human, I was sure I was going to die from the anguish. Physical pleasure and emotional pain came together until I could bear it no longer. My limbs stiffened, my back arched, and it seemed like my senses shut down for a moment.

When I slowly came to, I felt him heave an unnecessary breath as he pulsed deep inside me. Then the trembling stopped and he rolled to my side. He wrapped an arm around me, and pulled me close while nuzzling my temple with his mouth tenderly. It was a gesture I thought was supposed to be done by people in love with each other, and it upset me even more.

He bent his head and stopped short. "Charlotte?" he gasped.

I could imagine what he would be seeing. My face contorted in agony, my mouth agape in a silent scream, my eyes eternally dry yet still betraying my inner thoughts. I gave up trying to hold it in and erupted into loud, pathetic, tearless sobs.

"I'm sorry. So sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he cried out frantically, his hands smoothing over my body as he tried to find out which part he had accidentally injured. Finding none, he peered into my eyes and asked me what was wrong.

I shook my head, my wails getting louder. I let it all out: all the fear, guilt, and hurt. I cried for being stupid enough to fall for him; for being cowardly enough to conceal it; and for being weak enough to fail at hiding it.

When I felt like I had no strength left, I looked at his dear face and saw the infinite patience and concern etched on it. What if he could love me after all? He was still here, his arms still holding me. It should count for something.

I vowed to sort out my feelings as soon as I could. When I was ready, I would be strong enough to tell him everything.

I only hoped he would still be around to hear it.


	4. Writing a Virgin Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela x Ben - virgin scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters. I just like to make silly stories about them.
> 
> A/N: So I chose Angela and Ben for this virgin scene assignment. I know, so predictable of me. This is unbeta'd, so mistakes are all mine.
> 
> I'm turning in now, coz' it's half past 12 midnight on a workday. To my lovely classmates: I'll read your assignments and leave reviews later, after work. XO

"One caramel macchiato!" I called out. I set the hot drink on the counter, making sure not to spill anything, and then popped the lid on it. A petite girl with curly brown hair smiled up at me gratefully before leaving the coffee house with her red-haired boyfriend. I grinned back. She reminded me so much of Jessica, one of my good friends in high school.

It was a quiet day at work, so I got to have an hour-long break. As I sipped my second caffeine fix for the day, I took out my phone and logged into Facebook. I wasn't the social-networking type of girl, but being away from family and friends kind of made it necessary.

I laughed out loud when I checked my notifications. My younger twin brothers, Josh and Zak, had tagged me in several quirky photos taken during eleventh birthday party in school. I wish I were there, but I had exams and a three-hour drive from UDub to Forks was just not possible. I hoped the wrapped gifts I hid in my closet made up for my absence. I missed them so much.

I missed a lot of people these days. I scrolled through my friends' status feeds and smiled wistfully at a photo of Jess and Mike eating ice cream at a carnival. My other classmates looked similarly happy and well-adjusted to university life. If only Bella had an FB account. Yes, she and I e-mailed each other regularly, but it would have been nice to see a picture of her and Edward in New Hampshire.

Just when the feeling of nostalgia started to creep up on me, I glanced at a picture of me and Ben at the beach. His genuine smile always had the power to erase my negative thoughts even when he wasn't around. Loneliness gave way to excitement as I thought about tonight.

It was our second anniversary. Wow. It felt like only yesterday when we declared ourselves under the glittering disco lights at junior high prom, yet it was as if we had loved each other forever. However, this day wasn't just important because it marked another year of us together. On this day, we were taking our relationship to a whole new level.

I thought about the box of pills and the new set of lace undergarments in my bedside table drawer, so different from the usual boring but practical cottons I favored. The warmth on my cheeks had nothing to do with the steaming mug in my hands. Suddenly, seven o'clock seemed so far away.

:-X

"You look beautiful, Ang," Ben said, reaching up for a hungry kiss.

I returned his kiss with fervor, but reluctantly pulled back while laughing breathlessly. "Whoa there, Romeo. Don't we have a reservation at a fancy restaurant somewhere? We better go before we get too carried away."

He sighed as if he didn't want to go, but he dutifully opened the passenger door of his black Dodge Neon. I settled into the soft leather seat then looked up to see his dark eyes intense behind his horn-rimmed glasses. My heart skipped a beat.

"Tonight." His whisper was a thrilling promise. It filled my body with nervous anticipation.

We arrived at the restaurant and were seated in one of the private alcoves. As we waited for dinner, we talked about mundane things: the weather, classes, new friends. We joked and laughed about the weird guy in the library who talked to himself, as well as the professor who loved wiping his chalk-covered hands on his black trousers. We appeared like any other couple in the room, but under the surface a storm was brewing.

Throughout dinner, I went through the motions, but my mind whirled with a medley of discordant thoughts. Excitement morphed into uncertainty, then changed to desire, and then to anxiety. As minutes turned to hours, I began to second-guess myself. I loved Ben with everything I had, and there was no one else I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I was insanely attracted to him, too.

Ever since we'd started dating, we'd done more than just kiss—even if living under a Pastor's roof prevented us from actually doing the deed. So we weren't complete innocents in that aspect.

Why then did my desire to be with him in every way possible seem so daunting?

Maybe it was because of that ever-present fear of the unknown, or the reality that this could change our relationship for the better or worse. It could even be the concept of trusting someone so completely that clashed with the instinct to preserve the self.

We shouldn't have planned this. We should have just gone with the flow, done it when the urge struck. At least if we were more spontaneous, I wouldn't end up in a mess of quivers.

Ben took my hand and squeezed it. "I think it's time for presents."

I took mine out, sliding it across the table toward him. He opened it and his eyes lit up.

I was incredibly lucky to have a boyfriend who was so easy to please. I didn't spend as much as I had originally wanted, but getting the latest volume in his favorite comic series made him so happy that you would think I gave him a Rolex.

"My turn," he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "This is my way of thanking you in advance, for giving me something so precious. I am honored."

I tore at the wrappings, and I couldn't believe what I saw. A startled laugh escaped my mouth, and my fears were instantly pushed to the back of my mind.

I held in my hands a light blue statement shirt. It read, "World's Best Girlfriend."

:-X

I stepped into the girls' dorm, my previous nerves slithering back. I thanked the heavens the hallways were deserted at this time of night. I led him to my room and locked the door behind him.

He looked around, smiling. "You cleaned up," he commented, amused at its suddenly immaculate state. When I didn't respond, he turned to me. "What's wrong, baby?" he said softly, cupping my face in his hand.

"I'm scared," I admitted. "First time jitters, I guess."

"Me, too," he said. "I'm scared that I might screw up, since I've never done this before. But do me a favor, will you?" When I nodded, he continued, "Don't stop loving me, okay?"

"Never," I replied, bending down to kiss him.

I gave up all thought, giving in to the here and now. I let my body speak its own language as it tried to reach out to his. I did what came naturally, and even with the awkward pauses and occasional bumping, we were all right.

Somehow we had moved to the edge of my bed, and had divested each other of clothes. I fell back on my purple mattress, breaking our kiss. He paused to admire my cream-colored lingerie before removing them, his eyes impossibly wide, his cheeks flushed. "So beautiful," he echoed my very thought, running his hands along my sides.

Tentatively, he explored my body first with his hands, and then his mouth. I lay back, opening my whole self to his attention and closing my eyes when the desire he evoked became unbearable.

His lips and fingers ghosted over my stomach. It fluttered involuntarily at the extraordinary sensation. I was torn between the urge to shy away and the desire to stay, but the latter won out. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped me as his touch became firmer, more sure.

His hands grew bolder. They slid lower and lower until—I burst out in laughter.

"That's not the reaction I was hoping for," he said wryly.

"Sorry." I took a deep breath. "That tickles!"

He tried again, his fingers exploring the place where no man had gone before. It took several tries, but he finally got it right.

I writhed at the onslaught of pleasure his newfound skill brought me. He watched my rapture with an expression that was a mixture of pride and tenderness, and I fell in love with him all over again.

"Please," I implored shakily. "I'm ready."

He nodded, his face a mask of deep concentration. I touched his knitted brows lightly, causing them to relax.

"I love you," he whispered as he entered me.

He was incredibly gentle when he moved inside me. I could see the strain on his shoulders as he tried to go as slow as he could. I ran my hands over his arms in assurance. It wasn't very comfortable, but it wasn't unpleasant either. "It's okay," I whispered.

His pace gradually increased as his hesitation disappeared. His eyelids drooped, his jaw slackened. It wasn't long before he came, and it was something I wouldn't forget for a long time.

We lay wrapped in each other until his heartbeat and breathing slowed to normal. "Hey." I gave him a happy grin. "Not bad."

He nodded his agreement. "Sorry you didn't get to…"

I shrugged. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

"Maybe with more practice?"

I laughed at his hopeful tone. "Yes. Sounds like a plan."


	5. Spanking the Monkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice and Jasper spend quality time together. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Alice and Jasper. I just like putting them into smutty situations.
> 
> A/N: So this is the first assignment I had finished in such a short time—just over an hour! *gasp* I blame deadlines and early work hours the following day. And now you know why it's full of potholes and cracks. And because it's not beta'ed, it doesn't look as polished as I would have liked.
> 
> The delightful BellaFlan had some instructions in her assignment, which I tried so hard to follow. Honestly, I did. She said to write something out of one's comfort zone. Mine is writing smut in a male POV. I just feel so vulnerable writing it, because I'm basically groping in the dark. Second, to use as few adverbs as possible. BellaFlan, I tried. I really, really did. But I guess I'm just an adverb hoor. Lol. Third, to add cornflakes to the crazy mix. And I couldn't think of any other way to incorporate it into my fic without sounding lame. But I did, anyway. At least I tried, 'kay?
> 
> So yeah, very long rant over.
> 
> Oh, one last thing. This has some very, very minor buttlove. If you're not into that, be warned.

"Tell me what you want," Alice urged me in a breathy voice.

Still in a post-coital haze, I grinned lazily. "Why? You already know what I want even before I know it myself."

"Jazz." She pouted. "Not always. You sometimes change your mind at the last minute."

"To make it more fun." I shrugged. "Imagine how boring it would be if you knew every move I was about to make. Besides, you won't have to pretend to be surprised all the time."

"I don't pretend!" she cried and slapped my bare shoulder. I pulled her into my arms, pulling the bedcovers over our nude bodies.

Sex between us was not the usual thing. It was wonderful and astounding and sometimes messed up. Her power to foresee the future often left me incredibly satiated because she predicted what would drive me over the edge. The downside was that she could see beforehand any tricks I had up my sleeve. Nothing fazed her. Also, her power made me feel like she knew a lot more than I did, and it occasionally hurt my ego.

My power was pretty cool in this department. I had the advantage of knowing my effect on her quite easily since I could feel whatever she felt. I had discovered all her erogenous zones in no time at all. When she came, I always followed right behind her. Her pleasure amplified mine and when they combined, we could set a building on fire. And because I also had the talent to manipulate her feelings, I made sure she never got disappointed.

Other times though, I wished we were just a normal couple without any extraordinary skills. I knew every time she faked enthusiasm when I did something she didn't like, and somehow it hurt more than if she'd just told me the truth. I also started to doubt my prowess. Did I really give her pleasure because I was good at it, or because I "cheated" with my talent?

"Stop brooding. You're not Edward," she chided.

"Glad I'm not." I shuddered. Her words brought to mind my future brother who seemed as bland as cornflakes and carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

We were travelling the States in search of the Cullens, a vegetarian vampire family we were supposed to be part of in the future. She had filled me in on every one of them as if she had already met them. It was surreal to know so well someone you hadn't even seen, but she made sure I did. She even prompted me to memorize their names: Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett.

I knew she complained because she knew I was keeping something from her. I saw her close her eyes, her expression adopting one I knew too well. "Ali, stop looking."

She opened her eyes and frowned. "But I just saw something. And you would have liked it. But if you're not interested—well…"

I tried to fight it for a full minute, but in the end my curiosity won out. "All right. What did you see?"

She gave me a smile that rivaled the Cheshire cat's and pulled back a little. "If you'd rather not tell me what you want, why don't you show me?"

I thought about her words, and it made perfect sense. Maybe this was just what I needed. It took away the pressure to make everything good for her, and the frustration when I couldn't. I would only be responsible for my happiness. And if I failed, I wouldn't feel guilty.

She could benefit from this, too. She wouldn't need to look into the future to see how it affected us. She could just enjoy the moment.

"I'll do it on one condition," I told her. "You should do it as well."

"With plea-sha," she purred while crawling to the foot of the bed facing me.

Her ass teased me with its smooth, silky texture, and I couldn't help running my hand over the cheeks as she passed by me.

"Hold it right there, mistah," she growled. "You can only touch yourself from this point."

"Sure."

She positioned herself so that she sat facing me and spread my legs wide with her shorter ones. When she was satisfied, she spread hers and settled them on my thighs, so that we could see each other unhindered.

Her glistening pussy was only inches away. It would have been so easy to bury my fingers in it and feel its rough softness or rub my cock in its wet heat, but her earlier words made me stop. Searching for something else to torment, my hand found my rapidly hardening cock.

I formed a tight fist around it and ran it up and down its length, gathering the juices from our earlier activities. Twisting at the upstroke and running my thumb over the slit caused me to pant in pleasure.

Encouraged by my actions, I saw her rub her hands on her breasts, to the junction of her thighs, to her knees, and then back up again. As if she couldn't take the teasing any longer, she used both hands to spread her folds and both forefingers to spread the sticky wetness. They massaged her clit, sending shivers of pleasure through the pit of her belly which mirrored my own.

I continued pumping my cock in a steady rhythm while my free hand crept lower to massage my balls. Alice was a genius to instigate this position; it made it so much easier for me to reach them. I looked at my hands working myself to a frenzied pace, and when I couldn't bear to watch anymore, I glanced at her face and saw her bite her lip to stop from moaning.

"Don't hold it in," I encouraged her. "You know how I love hearing you scream."

She whimpered softly. She had advanced to finger-fucking now. I watched greedily while her slender fingers continued to disappear inside her pussy, her thumb worrying the hood of her clit. She moved faster until it could have been a blur to weak human eyes, but my vampire nature made me see it all so clearly. My speed increased with hers, and the tingling sensation in her pussy felt so different when compared to the tightening in my balls but they somehow complemented each other very well.

My attention was divided now, and even my multifaceted mind couldn't seem to keep up. It was almost like doing the 69; I was consumed with my own pleasure as well as with hers, and my concentration was bound to slacken on one in favor of the other. But then as the delicious warmth that invaded her stone-cold body grew, so did mine, until it was hard to distinguish which belonged to her and which belonged to me. I finally gave up and closed my eyes. No distractions now. Just me, my cock, and that honeyed pool of desire that stretched between us.

As my hand sped up to the tip, I decided to give it a little more love. I rubbed my palm on the head, smearing pre-cum all over its sensitive nerve endings. The fingers rubbing my balls moved as if on their own accord, brushing the tips against my nether pucker. Shit, that felt amazing.

"Fuck!" Alice groaned.

I was hit with a big wave of lust, and I wondered what kind of touch could have possibly caused it. My eyes flew open and centered on her crotch. Her hands rested on her knees.

Confused, I looked up to her face to see her eyeing my hands hungrily, as if she wanted to trade places with them. Pride swelled my chest as I realized that I affected her as much as she affected me, even without controlling her feelings.

"Not fair, darlin'," I said between shaky breaths. "I'm doing all the work here."

She snapped out of her stupor, resuming her gratifying task. Mirroring me, she ran a wet finger over her ass. I'd never touched her there before, and seeing her do it made me realize how very much I wanted to. I tasted venom on my tongue as I thought of all the wondrous possibilities. She grinned at me knowingly, her eyes full of promise.

I felt myself getting close, my muscles tight with exertion. I worked harder to bring myself to that incredible end, and I saw her do the same. She came after pushing a slick finger into her butt to the knuckle. The tantalizing sight sparked my own orgasm, spurts of hot, ropey come landing on her pussy.

I recovered first. She still felt boneless from the intensity of her climax, so I pulled her up and tucked her into my side. "Thank you," I whispered as I kissed her quivering lips. It wasn't so bad listening to her after all, if that was any indication. With that simple act, she restored my faith in her, in me, in us. Alice definitely knew best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few readers have been confused about a part in this story because Jasper seemed to feel exactly what Alice was feeling physically. So I'm going to put here what I told them.
> 
> In canon, Jasper's power is focused on feelings or emotions of others which he could feel and manipulate and I think they explain it due to his ability to control the hormones or whatever physiology it is related to emotions. But I read somewhere a while back about researchers doing a study about physical feelings (like touch or skin feeling) being related to emotional feelings (like joy or anger).
> 
> At the time I read that, nothing conclusive had come out yet and they were still in the process of researching it but it gave me an idea. What if Jasper really could feel what Alice was feeling physically? So I wrote about it. I could try to justify it by saying that Jasper and Alice were as close as two people can get because they were in love with each other that he has a special "sensitivity" to her unlike with other people. Or I can just plain claim creative license and say that I intentionally changed some parts of canon to fit my story.
> 
> Sorry if this confused you or made my story not believable. But thanks for reading all the same :)


	6. Realism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria x Riley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the queen of the Twilight kingdom and its inhabitants. I am merely a court jester spinning tales at the risk of sounding like a fool. ;)
> 
> A/N: So almost a year ago shit happened and I had to gracelessly drop out of PTB Smut University 2012 and stop writing and reading and commenting on my classmates' works (which were the high points of my days). Then today I woke up and felt this urge to go back to the lessons and my writings and realized how much I'd missed when I left school. I'd stopped doing what I loved to do what was necessary. ;(
> 
> Now that the shit at the most part has blown over, I want to continue learning the rest of the lessons. The upside is that I don't have a deadline to beat anymore, which would give me more hours of sleep than when I was submitting assignments last year. ;P The downside is that the sense of urgency is gone, and in the past I always seemed to work best when I was cramming.
> 
> I hope that won't be the case today. I hope that the extra time will help me absorb the lessons better and write to the best of my ability.
> 
> I won't have my assignments beta'd to make up for the lack of deadlines. I shall also do my best to read the other students' assignments and comment even if I'm a year late. Better late than never, right?
> 
> Anyways, the following is a mix of truth and fiction. I leave it to you to guess which parts happened in real life and which are just plain storytelling. :)

Riley comes to me at dawn, when the first rays of the sun force my newborn army into halfhearted hiding. It's just the two of us, and I know the inevitable is coming.

He is beautiful. Despite the things we've been doing, he has an innocence about him that can be very compelling. Strangely though, I am unmoved. He kisses me hungrily, as if he'd missed me after I left for Texas. Silly boy. I only respond when he starts getting rough. He bites my lip and squeezes my breast until I feel the pain I so crave. I have taught him well.

Closing my eyes, I can almost pretend that it is James' strong shoulders under my hands, his erection pressing against my belly. A drawn-out moan escapes me, and I can sense that this excites him too as his movements grow more urgent and he pushes me to the hard concrete floor. His lips leave mine and he undresses me while I just lie back, playing the passive role. I always loved it when he took charge. Oh, James…

"You are so fucking gorgeous," he says, and the illusion is shattered.

I open my eyes angrily, seeing Riley, not James. Next time I'll make sure that the idiot doesn't say a single word. It's too late though. The mood has passed and I have half a mind to stop him.

But the plan that took form during my absence reasserts itself and I realize what a perfect opportunity this is to put it into action. I have to get along with Riley. I should give him what he wants, gain his trust. When he believes in me completely he will execute the plan without any questions. Only then can I finally avenge the only man I had ever and will ever love.

If only I could return Riley's affection, I would not be so miserable. Yet he only loves the part of me that I allow him to see, which is half-truth and half-fantasy.

I watch Riley try his damnedest to please me with what he has learned under my tutelage and I feel sad. He is the perfect mate: strong, attractive, undemanding, passable in bed, and unswervingly loyal to me. But he is not James.

The next few minutes are a bit disappointing but not unpleasant. I've been though worse during my stint as a lady of the evening, back when I was still human. Riley becomes a little clumsy in his haste. He impales me with his cock and grinds his teeth while setting a punishing rhythm. I quickly slip into the role of a hooker; I pant and whimper and say he is the best lay ever. My palms smooth over his arms and his back and then I penetrate his skin with my long nails, a surefire method to make him come.

It doesn't take long. His cries pierce the silence while I draw out his orgasm with a skill honed by the challenging lover I had before him. I flip him onto his back and replace my pussy with my lips and tongue around his cock, sucking the come still shooting from the tip. His dazed eyes follow my ministrations and he grins happily as I swallow until he has nothing more to give.

"You are incredible," he whispers with unmistakable awe in his voice.

I smile at him, immensely gratified despite the lack of sexual satisfaction on my part. He is ridiculously easy to please.

If we both survive the battle ahead of us, I might keep him on. He is a quick and eager learner and I will enjoy teaching him the rest of what I know. I have no doubt he will agree to anything to make my erotic dreams come true, even if it means pretending to be someone he is not.

Most of all, his adoration is a balm for my broken heart.


	7. Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose x Emmett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight.

"Hello?"

"Hey Gorgeous."

Rosalie could hear Jasper and Edward's laughter on the other line, and Carlisle admonishing them to be quiet. There was a rustling sound as if Emmett was walking away from the group, but she knew he would have to go far away to avoid sharp eavesdropping vampire ears.

"Bored already?" she asked him in amusement.

"Yeah. These guys are no fun. Wouldn't let me go for more lions."

At his petulant tone, she had to smile. Sometimes she wondered if she had married an oversized child instead of a grown man.

"They were probably just stopping you from decimating the whole mountain lion population in California." She giggled. "Besides, if you don't have anything better to do, you can always come back home."

He let out a ragged breath and she knew her seductive tone had worked. "Well… Carlisle did promise to let me have a go at the lions further north later. How about you come and join the fun?"

"I'm not in the mood."

He seemed to have stopped moving and the other men's voices were barely audible. "Tell me what's wrong."

It still caught her by surprise sometimes whenever he showed traces of insight, considering he was usually thoughtless and impatient. It spoke of how well he knew her that even if he were a thousand miles away he would still know when something was bothering her.

"It's nothing," she lied.

"I can tell you're upset. Is it Bella?"

"It is, but not in the way you think."

Everyone knew how she felt about Bella. They dismissed it as her being catty and irrational but Emmett had sometimes wondered aloud whether it was something he should be worried about.

"No, we didn't have a fight," she said before he could ask. "In fact, we had a rather mature, intelligent conversation."

"But you're not happy about it," he guessed.

"No. How could she be so blind, Em? I know she loves Edward as much as I love you, but sooner or later she'll realize what a big mistake she's making!"

"Am I that to you? A mistake?" His voice was quiet.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. When he remained silent, she heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch again. I don't know why you even put up with me."

"At least you're my bitch," he quipped, eliciting an eye roll from her. "I wish I were there with you so I could tell you everything's going to be okay." His soothing tone seemed to reach out to her through the phone. "Bella is a grown woman and she has to live her own life. All we can do is stand by and offer her support whenever she needs it."

He always knew what to say, which made her grateful. He seemed to hit the right spot with just a few words. Making Bella sound like her teenage daughter making a poor choice resonated with the strong maternal instincts inside her that caused her pain for almost eighty years. She imagined Bella as the eighteen-year-old daughter she'd always wanted but never had and knew she could never completely rule her life with her own choices.

"I miss you," she whispered.

"I miss you more. At least we'll be back earlier this time so we can have the rest of the weekend to ourselves." The joy in his voice was so clear it was as if he were lying right next to her on their bed.

"For now, I'll have to settle for being miserable, then."

"I know just the thing to cheer you up."

"What are you plotting, you rascal?"

"Just trust me. Okay. Where are you?"

"I'm in our big, cold bed, all by my lonesome self," she teased.

He swallowed audibly. "What are you wearing?"

"Your favorite black teddy, with the ribbon on the front untied." She in fact had a gray shirt and black jeans on, but she was not going to tell him that. It was nice tormenting the man once in a while.

He groaned, and she could just imagine what was running through his mind. "Put the phone on loudspeaker."

"Yes Sir." Pinpricks of excitement erupted all over her body at his commanding tone. She placed the phone on the bedside table and relaxed on the pillows. When she heard a high-pitched zip and his loud intake of breath, her muscles tensed. She closed her eyes and pictured him opening his fly and taking his hard erection into his hands.

"Oh Rosie. It's never the same without you, because you do it so much better than me."

"Pretend it's me."

"Yes. I can feel your long, slender fingers touching the tip of my cock very lightly. It's twitching, asking for more." His breathing grew harsher, as harsh as hers was.

She could taste venom on her tongue and feel heat flaring deliciously between her legs. She rubbed her thighs together to try to relieve the ache. "Then I'll give you more."

"Yes." He groaned. "You now have me in your hands. You are handling me very well." By the urgent sounds coming from the speaker phone, she knew how well. "And in gratitude, I am going to worship your glorious breasts."

She pulled up her shirt and played with the girls. A bit of pressure here, a little tug there. Just the way he did it. The way she loved.

She heard him move rhythmically and wished she had followed his advice and went to California. It should have been her hands on his cock. Her mouth teasing the swollen tip. She told him this and he gasped.

Her hands moved restlessly over her body and encountered fabric. Impatient, she tore her jeans in half, her panties along with it. His sound of protest made her laugh.

She touched herself, wishing he were here. His fingers were rougher and felt better on her smooth skin. She recalled with perfect clarity last night, when he had touched her with deliberate slowness that almost drove her mad. She tried to recreate the feeling. She almost got it right.

"Rosie, oh god, what you do to me," he moaned. The sound of his movements became more frantic, his breath coming out in little gasps. At that moment she felt powerful. She made him feel this intense pleasure, no one else. His apparent desire fueled her own, prompted her to go faster, and in no time she was crying out his name with abandon. She didn't care if anyone else in the house heard her. She and Emmett were the only two people who mattered at this point.

He came loudly, probably disturbing the wildlife sleeping peacefully nearby. She grinned at the thought.

A few minutes later, she picked up the phone. "That was fun," she murmured, stretching.

"Thanks for that, Babe. It's always better with you."

Rosalie ended the call and changed into track pants. She went to the living room where Alice and Esme were watching TV.

"Was that Emmett?" Alice asked. "Next time he calls, tell him I said well done!"

"For what?" Rosalie's suspicions were raised.

"He won that bet against Edward and Jasper."

"What bet?"

"Jazz and Edward thought he wouldn't last 24 hours without coming back home to be with you so you could, you know."

"You mean so that he could fuck me?"

Esme looked over with a frown, then looked up in the direction of Edward's room where Bella was asleep.

"Um, yes. Well, he didn't come home but he still got what he wanted."

Meanwhile, in the mountains of California…

"Em, you cheated!" Jasper exclaimed when he spotted Emmett hurtling toward them.

"No I didn't. The rules didn't say anything about phones—"

"Emmett is right," Edward decided. "We only said that he has to go back home in order for him to lose."

Emmett's phone rang. Rosalie. Was she up for round two already? Sweet. "It's her."

The three other men groaned. At this rate, there would be no more lions to hunt in the vicinity.

"Yes Babe?"

"Emmett Dale McCarty Cullen! You come home right this instant."

"But…"

"Right. Now."

"Yes Ma'am."


	8. Where Were These Teenage Sex Gods When I Was In School?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler x Lauren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to S. Meyer.

He was gorgeous. Tall and dark, he was the perfect foil to her golden loveliness. The Ken to her Barbie. The prom king to her queen. The—

"Lauren!" Jessica's stage whisper broke her musings. "Look at that pale creature in the black jacket. The one that just left the front office. She must be the new girl!"

Lauren coolly appraised the newcomer and dismissed her. New Girl was no beauty. At least she had nothing that could compete with the elegance she was born with.

And then he appeared out of the blue, striding by New Girl. His brown eyes lit up with interest and followed her retreating form until she was out of sight. He said something to Austin which made him answer, "No way, Tyler!" They both laughed.

Lauren bristled. Classes hadn't even started yet and Tyler was already checking out New Girl. He belonged to her, no one else. Yet when their eyes met and he hastily looked away, she knew that wasn't the case anymore. With a sinking heart, she remembered that she had him once, but was stupid enough to push him away.

They knew each other all their lives, but it was sophomore year when she fell in love. She was an emerging social butterfly and he was the next MVP. Their romance was already written in the stars even before they went on their first awkward date. They were inseparable.

Until that fateful night.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" her dad asked while waiting for her mom to get in the car.

"Positive. Enjoy your date guys. Happy Anniversary!" She waved at them until the car turned the corner.

Ten minutes later, he was on the front porch.

They fell into her bed in a mass of tangled limbs. It was quite clumsy but it didn't really matter. After all, they were alone on a real bed for the first time. They could be as clumsy as they wanted as long as they finished before dawn.

She never really knew what to expect. She had initially assumed that they would do what they normally did at the back of his car after football practice. But when he showed her the square foil wrapper, she was equal parts scared and delighted.

"Tyler…" She stared at the object with wide green eyes. "Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "We may not have another chance. Do you trust me?"

A pause. "Yes."

He trembled in his excitement but forced himself to calm down while he spread her legs and touched her with practiced strokes. He had made her come this way numerous times; he was confident tonight would be no different. He followed his brother's advice to make her come first.

She rode his fingers enthusiastically. There was something so delicious about the forbidden. This thought, along with the eager anticipation of finally becoming his in every way possible, urged her to a very satisfying orgasm.

While she whimpered and moaned, he unzipped his pants and took out his cock. He was so hard that it hurt. Her dazed eyes focused and stared at him in fascination when he fumbled with the condom.

Then he gradually guided his cock to her entrance. "Shit," he exclaimed. He never knew it could be this tight. He resisted the urge to ram into her balls-deep knowing he might hurt her or he might not make it. "Easy, easy…"

She tensed at the invasion. "Wait, stop!"

"What?" he forced out through gritted teeth as he stilled himself. "You okay?"

A few deep breaths. "Go on."

He thought he would die of happiness. It was so fucking good. Better than his hand. A hundred times better.

He'd intended to move slowly the first time. Yes, he had everything planned out so he wouldn't mess this up. But he'd never dreamed it could be like this. All good intentions went out the window and he lost control. His cock moved as if it had a mind of its own, plunging into her blissful heat again and again. Before he knew it, it was over.

He collapsed on top of her. Uncomfortable, she nudged him until he rolled onto his side.

She fantasized about this a hundred times but nothing came close to reality. "That was quick."

"I'm sorry Babe. You felt so good," he mumbled.

He took off the condom and she could see his flaccid cock. It was smaller than she'd imagined. "Foot my ass," the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"You said something about a foot?" he insisted.

She sighed. Well, he asked for it. "Jessica said cock size was proportional to feet. You have big feet, so I assumed…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind."

"You mean you don't think I'm big enough for you, Miss Fake Tits?" He was glaring at her now.

She blushed, remembering when he first discovered the pads under her bra. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't gifted in that area. "Says the guy who came after two seconds," she retorted.

"I said I was sorry, okay? Jeez." He reached for his jeans.

"Where are you going?" She sat up, covering her exposed chest with a blanket before he could say something mean again.

"I'm going home."

She watched him leave, torn between sending him to hell and begging him to stay. In the end, pride won.

He had his pride too. He never picked her up in the mornings, never called.

They ignored each other in the hallways. They avoided their friends' questions. It was a tug of war of sorts, and whoever held out longer won.

She lost.

She missed him terribly. She acknowledged that no matter what they had said to each other, she still loved him. He was her soulmate. She wanted him back.

But he was done. He dated other girls, and apparently his performance improved over time. She listened to secret conversations in the bathroom, thinking, 'that should have been me.'

He was cutting a swath through the females of Forks High, but sadly it did not include her.

And now there was New Girl. Was he thinking of having her as well?

Lauren shook her head.

Over her dead body.


	9. Unresolved Sexual Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlisle x Esme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The beautiful couple, Carlisle and Esme, as well as the awesome Edward belong to Stephenie Meyer.
> 
> A/N: For some reason, when I was reading about UST, Carlisle and Esme popped into my mind. What am I doing? I dunno. (Pulls at hair) At least I tried. xo

Columbus, Ohio, 1911

 

She was unforgettable.

Her long skirt was caked with dirt, her tawny hair had long escaped its ribbon, and tear tracks marked her pink cheeks. Even then, she couldn't help being the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

The girl sat in the shade of an apple tree. They did not move her because it hurt too much. Not far away, apples spilled from a woven basket that must have been flung to its side during the excitement.

Her brown eyes widened at the sight of me. It was a natural reaction to my strangeness. She did not know I was a vampire but her instincts might have told her I wasn't entirely human. Her gaze shifted to the bag in my hand, the well-known prop of a physician. Another kind of alarm crossed her lovely face as she deduced the reason of my appearance.

"Dr. Cullen, thank you for being so prompt." Mrs. Platt, a distraught woman who was an older version of the girl, said. "Esme had fallen not too long ago."

Esme. A pretty name.

"Can you tell me what happened, Esme?" I asked as I examined her outstretched right leg.

In halting tones, she described the events leading to this unfortunate incident. "I was climbing the tree to pick apples. Misjudging the distance of a particular branch, I stretched too far and fell on my leg." Even when she was in severe pain, her voice was soft, gentle.

"I should think you are much too old to be climbing trees, Miss Esme," I remarked, wanting to erase the pain from her eyes.

"I am never too old for anything, Doctor. I like to believe that I'll be young forever." She laughed.

Her laughter was as engaging as the rest of her.

She had rolled down her stockings to reveal her swollen shin that was beginning to bruise. Angry scratches were scattered around it, but the bleeding was the least of my problems. Palpating the area confirmed my suspicion.

"Your leg is broken."

She looked up at me worriedly.

"It is not so bad," I assured her. "I believe the break is clean and I only have to adjust it a little."

I took a bottle from my bag and made her take some painkillers. I explained that it would hurt as I set the bone so it could heal properly.

"Ready?"

Her brave smile broke my heart.

I applied the gentlest pressure, but the dear girl still cried out in agony. I moved as fast as I could without revealing my superhuman skills, not wanting to prolong her suffering. She was the very picture of patience, not uttering a single complaint as I worked. At long last I had secured the leg with a splint and bandages.

I leaned forward to check my handiwork. It was then that a whiff of her scent drove me to maddening thirst.

I was all but immune to the smell of human blood. I had perfected my restraint with hundreds of years of training.

No, I did not thirst for her blood. Wretched man that I was, I thirsted for something far worse.

Her fresh, unique fragrance, mixed with sweat, earth, and fruit brought to mind Eve, that glorious enchantress who had tempted Adam out of his wits. It was absurd; Esme was everything that was youthful and innocent. Yet my all-too-male body responded shamefully to her femininity in ways I would not have thought possible. I was painfully aware of the creamy skin beneath the bruises, the dewy redness of her lips, the curves beneath the modest dress. The instant tightening of my loins betrayed my sinfulness. In a second that felt like an eternity, my mind was filled with thoughts that I vainly tried to push away.

Of lips and tongue and breath that tasted so sweet beneath my own.

Of slender fingers that left paths of fire wherever they touched.

Of full breasts that weighed perfectly in my hands.

Of smooth thighs wrapped around me in a sensual embrace.

Of warm, pliant skin I could bury myself into.

I held my breath to end the blissful torment that wracked my treacherous body. Esme, blessedly unaware of my moment of weakness, gave me one of her dimpled smiles. "Thank you Dr. Cullen. You are very kind."

She trusted me, a most undeserving man. I did not dare risk corrupting her purity. "Not at all, Miss Platt. If you do as instructed, you shall heal very nicely. You must excuse me. I have much work to do."

"Of course," she murmured, the light a little faded from her eyes.

I permitted myself one last act of selfishness before I left her presence forever. I took her hand and pressed a kiss gently. And then I was gone.

 

Ashland, Wisconsin, 1921

 

The pain was excruciating.

I wanted to curl into myself to see if that helped ease some of it but I could not move. I wanted to die. Why was I not dead already?

My boy. My beautiful baby. The only thing that could have saved my soul from the brink of despair. Gone.

I was overwhelmed with a fresh wave of pain, this time starting from my chest and radiating to the rest of my broken body. I couldn't endure anymore. I wasn't strong enough. When would this all end?

I was being lifted. I tried to open both eyes but I could only manage one. They were taking me away. Their hoarse cries were curiously muffled, as if I were underwater. A sharp burn pierced my nape, and then I could thankfully feel nothing.

I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come.

An indeterminable amount of time passed. I felt a comforting coolness touch my face. "My beautiful Esme. What have you done?" a captivating voice whispered. A familiar voice.

I tried to see who it was. I could barely manage to widen my eye beyond a slit. A golden god appeared before me. Apollo, in all his blazing glory. He turned unhappy yellow eyes towards me and I was shocked.

Dr. Cullen?

The man who had haunted my dreams since I was sixteen. He was everything a man should be. Kind, gentle, beautiful beyond words. All my life, I had searched for him, or someone like him. No one came close.

Oh, how foolish I was then. Our encounter was one that had left me quite confused. If I had been older, more aware of myself, I would not have let him leave so easily.

I remembered that cool autumn afternoon. I could not believe how young and attractive he was, yet he had spoken with knowledge and his capable hands healed as effortlessly as he had captured my heart.

His whole body radiated with power but he wielded it with gentleness and efficiency. That he was inherently a good man was unmistakable. I knew with absolute certainty that he could never ever hurt me.

And his face, oh how it was etched in my mind! His hair, pale as sunshine. His features all so perfectly formed. His sweet scent that seemed to pull me ever closer.

I had wanted to run my hands over the smooth ivory skin, on the muscles of his shoulders, to be wrapped in his strong arms. I yearned to press my face into his neck so I could inhale his mouth-watering essence. And I had longed to touch my lips to his to find out if it was as soft as it looked.

At that time, the pain from my broken leg was not so great that the other parts of my body could not function. My heart pounded in my chest, my mouth dry. Places I dared not mention tingled and ached and burned for something beyond my understanding.

My inexperienced self did not know it then, but what I felt was desire. I wanted him so much. But like the other good things in my life, that was short-lived.

"Esme, can you hear me?" he asked.

'Yes, Doctor!' I wanted to shout but my voice, like the rest of my body, was frozen.

"I cannot imagine the pain you are going through. I know you want to escape but I am too selfish to let you go. I hope, in time, you will forgive me."

What was he saying? I could not think of anything he might do that could possibly be so unforgivable. He would always be perfect in my eyes.

I saw him nod to someone beyond my vision. And then he bent down to kiss my wrist. At first I could not feel anything. And then agony as I had never before encountered flared to life. And I understood what he meant.

 

* In a cottage by the lake, Sometime later *

 

He never left her side.

He had spent the past few days talking to her, explaining what was happening, begging for her forgiveness. And when she was too ravaged by venom, he sat silently, wallowing in guilt. He alternated between berating himself and justifying his actions. What he did was inexcusable, against everything he had ever worked for. But he couldn't stand by and let her die either. He longed to see that light in her eyes again.

He felt Edward's hand on his shoulder. His reassurance kept him grounded. "It won't be long now," Edward said softly and left the room.

Dr. Cullen held his breath when he saw his patient show signs of life. His finger on her wrist registered the slowing of her pulse until it completely stopped. She inhaled deeply and moved her limbs carefully. And then she opened her eyes.

He was the first thing she saw, and then she was not afraid. In fact, she felt whole. She had been broken, but he was here, fixing her once more. He would always be there to mend her.

"Esme?" His voice was cautious and even more mesmerizing.

"Doctor?"

"Please call me Carlisle. How do you feel?"

It took a while for her to notice the changes her body had undergone. She stood from the bed and stepped toward him. She knew what had happened since she had been lucid when he tried to explain. Her past memories were slipping from her mind, and she happily let them go. Save for one.

"Carlisle."

She allowed her hand to trace the fine bones of his face, the cool softness of his lips. His eyelids drooped as she lifted both hands, felt his broad shoulders, his strong arms, and his muscled chest. The hunger she had felt when she was sixteen returned and doubled in force.

And then he was touching her too, and it felt incredible. She was strong yet she was all woman, her smooth, pale, fragrant skin exciting his senses. She smelled better now that she was of his kind; the pull of bloodlust was gone. In its place was a different kind of lust that was even more compelling. Somewhere in his hazed mind, he acknowledged that he should not be doing this. He should be explaining to her that what she was feeling was just one of the million other new things she had to learn to adjust to and to control. But he had longed for her for a decade, and now that she was in his arms, he did not have the will to stop.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed him in an explosion of sensation. Where this act of passion she had previously associated with pain, it was now pure pleasure. Her chest burst with happiness when he groaned and responded to the movement of her lips on his. Their breaths mingled, their tongues touched.

He buried his fingers in the mass of her soft, luxuriant hair and pulled her face up so he could kiss her more thoroughly. His other hand followed the dips and turns of her delectable body until it moved up to capture one breast.

She gasped at the pleasure of his thumb moving over an erect nipple. The thin material of her cotton dress did nothing to block the sensations flowing through her when he held the curve of her breast and caressed it hungrily.

He nipped at the skin behind her ear and deeply inhaled, the perfume of her skin sending a shock straight to his loins. His hand left her hair, moving down over her back to her generous backside. He kneaded them and pulled them up so that her pulsing center was flush with his engorged flesh.

She was mindless with want as she rubbed herself against his male hardness. Pleasure sparked where they pressed against each other and it radiated from between her thighs to her breasts and back again in an electrifying circuit.

He was teetering on the verge of completion. He brushed his ever-growing arousal on her eager body until he was throbbing with desperate need. He cursed the offensive clothes that formed a barrier between their skins. If not for them, he would now be deep inside her, encased in her magical warmth.

And then something tugged at the edge of her awareness. Something considerably stronger than the sexual hunger that threatened to consume her.

"Carlisle, stop her!"

The door burst open and a young man with brown-red hair pushed against her while Carlisle held her from behind.

'How dare they stop me?' She bared her teeth and tried to follow the most delicious aroma that made her forget everything else.

"Did you send them away, Edward?"

"As soon as I could."

Her sharp eyes looked out the window and followed the progress of the peddler's cart as it moved farther away from her reach. The cart that contained that wonderful smell. Blood.

Her throat burned with a thirst so intense that she used all her strength to appease it. But even with her newborn power she was helpless against two strong men who were determined to stop her.

"Esme, my dear Esme…" Carlise said soothingly. "You have to fight the thirst. They are innocents."

The smell was gone, and so was her strength. The fight went out of her and she collapsed in his arms.

The enormity of what she had almost done dawned on her. 'What kind of monster have I become?'

Out of the corner of Carlisle's eye he saw Edward retreat from the room. He shifted his attention to the remarkable woman in his arms and watched her bow her head helplessly. He made her into this. She must hate him so. He would make it up to her with everything he had.

He held her in his arms and infused her with his strength. "I will show you how to hunt now."

She raised wounded crimson eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. If there is anyone to blame, it should be I."

She shook her head. "What do we do now?"

"I will take you to a place where there are no humans. There are woods not far from here. There, we will hunt animals."

She lowered her head, embarrassed. "What we did before, it was very nice. I wish I did not ruin it."

He smiled. "There will be plenty of time for that too, if you wish. We have all eternity."

She saw the compassion and latent desire in his eyes, and knew she was very, very lucky to have discovered him again. If this amazing man were part of her future, then she would be the happiest woman on earth.

"Eternity," she agreed.


	10. Dialogue During Sex Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate x Garrett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Kate and Garrett. I own this ridiculous situation I put them in.

He was angry.

He had avoided her all day. When she asked Tanya if he'd told her where he went, she merely shrugged and replied, "Out hunting."

She was gripped with fear that he had reverted to his previous lifestyle. If he had, she only had herself to blame.

Her relief was profound when he came home with his eyes still very much golden.

She lay in bed, not really expecting him to join her. Nonetheless, she continued to hope.

Her hope was finally rewarded when she heard their bedroom door open and felt the mattress dip behind her. His intoxicating scent wafted to her until she was torn between dread and desire.

Desire won out. She turned towards him and saw the muscled planes of his broad back.

"Garrett…" She stretched her hand out.

"Don't, Kate," he whispered ominously.

Her hand froze in midair and clenched in frustration. This was madness. Technically, she didn't do anything wrong.

"Please, Love, talk to me."

"What should we talk about? How you betrayed me? With an Englishman, for chrissakes!"

"I didn't betray you. Nothing happened between us, I swear it!" she insisted.

"Because I arrived just in time. Do you know what hurts the most?" He moved to face her, and the pain in his eyes was worse than the anger. "The thought that if I hadn't been there to stop you, you would have gone with him."

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Can you honestly tell me that you would have resisted him if I didn't show up?"

She did not meet his eyes.

Dean was an old flame. He was a vampire, just like them. He also was a wanderer, like Garrett was before he moved in with her and the coven. But the similarities ended there. Whereas Garrett was restless and excitable, Dean was always quiet and self-possessed.

Yesterday she and Dean had crossed paths once more. He wanted to pick up where they had left off. She told him it was impossible.

"I'm with someone now," she had informed him.

"That's all right. I'll wait until that ends. I'll be here for a few months anyway."

"You don't understand. It's not like that."

His confused expression told her he definitely didn't get it. None of her relationships had lasted very long.

She'd tried to explain to him her commitment to Garrett. He'd tried to persuade her that what they had was better.

She was sorely tempted. They had been great together. Part of the allure was the temporariness of it. No pressures, no rules. Just pure enjoyment.

For a second, she considered how it would have been if she didn't have Garrett. She would have said yes. She and Dean would have had a few months of fun, which would finish when he decided to leave again.

And then she would end up being alone.

She wasn't Katrina the succubus anymore.

She wanted to matter to somebody for a change.

She wanted never to be lonely again.

She looked Garrett in the eye. "Yes. I would have resisted him."

He studied her for a moment. "I know how much he is like you. Carmen told me. It would be so easy. Unlike with me."

Their relationship had been difficult from day one. Each had to change for the sake of the other. There were many times when the sacrifice had seemed so great.

"Why don't you leave the choice to me?" Kate retorted.

"I'm making you mad. Why are you still talking to me?"

His words were mocking, defiant. They were also filled with pain and self-doubt.

"I'm choosing you because he doesn't make me burn the way you do."

She decided it was time to end this pointless conversation.

With quick, catlike efficiency, she straddled him and pinned his wrists to the bed. She cut his protests short with a furious kiss.

His shock transformed into passion that matched her own. He rolled her onto her back, blazing a hungry trail down her neck to the cleft between her breasts. He parted her robe, revealing her nakedness to his admiring gaze.

"What a fool I am," he murmured, nibbling on her skin.

"I agree," she gasped. "You should never have doubted me."

"Convince me."

She deftly maneuvered herself so she was above him again. She ripped their clothes off and proceeded to take up the gauntlet.

She welcomed him into her body and heart with deliberate thoroughness. "Don't think." She slid down onto him until they were skin-to-skin. "Just feel." She met his challenge with each undulation of her lithe body.

He met her halfway, his upward thrusts punctuated with soft apologies and candid declarations.

"I love you," she echoed until they were both breathless with urgency.

Smooth, graceful motions progressed into irregular, jerky movements until, first he, then she reached the pinnacle of pleasure and crashed into waves of satisfaction.

They stayed wrapped in each other for a long time.

"I suspect this won't be the last time we disagree on something," he said quietly. "But I have a feeling that if things always end up like this, everyone wins."

She couldn't agree more.


	11. Orgasm Me to Bits and then The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Bella's wedding night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is responsible for that infuriating, cockblocking wedding night scene. I'm just taking matters into my own hands.
> 
> A/N: So I'm going where so many others have gone before. I think no other part of Breaking Dawn has inspired more frenziedly written fanfics than the one mentioned above. I humbly present to you my take on what happened that night.
> 
> LuluM, I deleted almost half of this fic in order to fit the 500 or less word challenge. Just wanna let ya know. ;)

His kiss was different. Less restrained. Considering that this was our wedding night, he probably was allowing himself to open up more. It delighted me to no end.

"Edward," I whispered against his lips when I stole a breath in between kisses. I ran my hands on his damp chest, admiring the way his muscles rippled when he shifted his weight so as not to crush me.

"Bella, sweet Bella." His reverent words struck a chord in my heart. He made me feel like I was responsible for the utter joy on his handsome face, and I wanted to tell him that it was exactly the same for me. My words became lost, though, in a breathless moan when I felt his lips nibble gently on my neck. I easily got lost in the myriad sensations his hands and lips and tongue evoked on my body.

The concentration on his face gave way to a sort of drugged elation whenever I responded loudly and positively to him. He took his time, making sure I was ready for him when the time was right. Countless moments I begged for him to take me, but with absolute patience he kept telling me, "Not yet."

With his long, talented fingers and insatiable tongue, he brought me to heights similar to my experiments with myself before. Not exactly the same though. Each time was a bit different from the others, with its own delectable flavor.

He carefully stretched me with a finger, gradually adding another until I thought I couldn't take more. But nothing could have prepared me for what I felt when he finally entered me.

It was a strange sensation, like I was being filled to my full capacity. It felt uncomfortable at first, but thankfully it was not the sharp pain I'd expected from reading too many bad stories.

He paused until my body began to accommodate his and learn to find enjoyment in it. His slow movements caused dormant parts of me to stir and awaken until my whole body was right there with him, meeting him plunge for plunge.

Heat invaded my limbs and traveled south, where our bodies were joined. The delicious warmth pervaded it until I could think of nothing but the sweet ache building up to a fevered pitch.

He was not so immune anymore. His eyes had rolled shut, focus replaced with delirium. He had never looked more beautiful.

It was this image that was branded in my heart when I decided to let go. With mind-numbing intensity, I was swept away in a maelstrom of pleasure, where there was no sight or sound, only feeling.

Much later, when we were both spent and I was starting to doze off, a thought came to me. All the things we had gone through, good or bad, culminated in this perfect moment where we were finally united in soul and body. No matter what happened in the future, I knew I would have it no other way.


End file.
